A fallen star
by Black2Knight
Summary: Edmund is Hogwart's detective out to investigate a deadly crime, but what happens when Hermione wants to join him in his mission. One-shot. Might continue.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

"How's her condition?"

"Extremely grim, I'm afraid. Although she's breathing, she's suffering a lot of internal and physiological injuries."

Edmund Lockhart nodded at the school's nurse as he scanned the girl's body. She was very much alive as justified by the level of her pulse, but for how long? Blood drenched her blazer and formed a crimson pool around the classroom floor. Her hair was also mottled with the scarlet liquid and her mouth was completely dripping with it. A Ravenclaw badge was visible on her uniform along with a nametag, which he picked up.

_Cho Chang_, it said.

He turned around and saw the Charms teacher draping a colorless blanket over a bloodstained student's body. His nametag lay on the ground next to him and the words _Terry Boot_ were printed on to the paper. He shook his head with pity at the enclosed body, scarlet blotches beginning to appear on the fabric blanket. A wave of nausea hit him as the smell of fresh blood grew increasingly worse and Edmund quickly exited the room to cease it.

Midnight and he was still awake in the dormitory. He couldn't sleep due to the events that have occurred five hours ago. One Ravenclaw student murdered, one hospitalized. What's makes it even more stranger is that both had suffered bullet wounds rather than the typical usage of magic that is used by students throughout the school. This suggests that the murderer could be a student raised by a muggle family who had managed to smuggle a gun into the castle. This could very well be justified as Hogwarts does not detect muggle-made objects.

Edmund screwed up his smooth face in thought. There was no evidence leading to the attacker which proves it hard for him to find out their true identity. Even if there were traces of DNA or fingerprints, the teachers were not forensic investigators and he doubt that there's any spell that exists which can accomplish this task. If only the muggle police was allowed into the castle, then things would have been much simpler. He stared out of the dormitory window, wondering whether anything outside would clear his mind, increasing his chances of getting a good night's sleep.

Suddenly he saw something that interested him. The intense light of a shooting star whizzed across the landscape, eventually crash landing on to the ground. Edmund's mother had told him stories about the stars; that whenever a star has fallen, it signifies bad luck. He didn't believe the tale for shooting stars always told you that your wish would come true.

It took him several minutes before his mind succumbed to uneasy dreams.

Daylight poured in through the curtains, welcoming Edmund to open his eyes. Awake and slightly tired after only a few hours sleep, he forced his weary legs out of bed. His trunk, a treasure chest with unique collector stamps plastered onto every layer of wood, stood at the end of his bed. He unlocked it and pulled out the things he needed most: a toothbrush, toothpaste, bundles of textbooks and clothing, a worn out notebook and a wand, made out of holly with dragon heartstring as its core. After making sure that his trunk was securely bolted shut, he made his way downstairs into the common room.

There was only one person down there, a girl his age with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. She seemed to be expecting him. Edmund ignored her and headed for the nearest bathroom. He had almost reached the fat-lady's portrait when he felt a hand clasp his wrist. He craned his neck to see the brown hair girl gazing desperately into his face.

"Edmund, don't go yet," she whispered. "I want to speak to you."

"Look miss, I'm in a hurry and there's a pile of scones waiting for me in the great hall, just waiting to be eaten." He thought it was the best excuse he could offer.

The girl expression turned into that of seriousness. "Edmund, it's only six fifteen. Breakfast doesn't start until about seven. Surely a boy of your level of intellect can come up with a greater excuse than that. After all, you are the best chess player in the school and one of the more respected students. Surely you have enough time to have a conversation with a fellow Gryffindor."

She was desperate to have the conversation and as a result Edmund gave in. He slouched on a sofa and poured himself a cup of butterbeer, which had been left in a jug on the dining table over night. He had to thank Fred and George for they were the ones who smuggled it from Hogsmeade. He sipped the icy butterscotch liquid and turned to face the girl, who was now seated opposite him, lust filling her face.

"What some?" he offered, but she refused.

"No thanks, butterbeer's not good for me in the mornings." She stared at his wand which lay wrapped in a piece of tissue paper on the table. "Oh no, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm not sure we've met before so my name is-

"Hermione." Edmund finished the sentence for her. "I remember seeing you being sorted into this house at the ceremony."

She blushed as he drained the contents of the cup within several gulps. She carefully monitored him; watching him wipe his mouth with a tablecloth and open a packet of ginger newt. When he took out his toiletries from his pajama pocket, she decided to get it over with.

"Edmund," she began, nervously. "I've heard that you have volunteered to do some detective work on the incident that's been going on in Hogwarts."

His gaze met hers "Yeah, the one where the students are attacked by muggle-born weaponry."

"Well, I was wondering whether I could assist you in it."

Edmund's eyebrow rose. Doing detective work like this is extremely tiresome and difficult, not to mention very risky. Joining his team would put Hermione's life at stake. But the look of determination on her face made it hard of him to resist it and he only had one option left: he had to reason with her.

'Hermione, do you know about the risks involved if you wish to take part in it?" he said.

"Yes, I do. And I've been in far worse situations before."

He gave it a thought then said: "I'm sorry but you can't join."

Her eyes flashed with a combination of anger and confusion. "Why?"

"It's because I can't risk another life. Now goodbye." He left the common room leaving her with tears pouring down her face.


End file.
